No, I’m not literally moving, but my blog is. I’ve made the jump from WordPress .com to .org. You can check my new site out at GottaBeMoreBlog.org. It’s still a work in progress, but I hope to offer more resources than this current blog allows.
Q: Dear Dr. Cliché, I’ve heard how insightful you are and can’t help but ask your advice about a situation I find myself in. I have a friend whose father just died. How can I help him? As a Christian what can I say to make him feel better?
A: You’re asking the right questions, Curious Kate. Assisting a friend with a close loss can be a sticky thing indeed. The key, as you have said, is to make sure he feels better by not focusing the conversation on the death. You will know you’ve done your job if he leaves with a tight smile stretched across his face. Continue reading
If the ever-longed-for Heaven and the ever-dreaded (or currently, ridiculed) Hell exist, then they are in a reality completely separate from our own. Like a two-story building, we inhabit the first floor, while Heaven and Hell fill the second – the two only rarely dipping into the other’s territory.
But why should there be only two floors?* The realm of Heaven and Hell would be the supreme ultimate level, or reality, which unites all others, but why should there not be ten or twenty realities? Or an infinite amount? Imagine a collection of all these realities – resting like little glistening spheres in the palm of a hand. Some realities are nearer, some farther, to each other (whatever these terms of “distance” mean); some are similar and others are very different. Maybe not all are fallen as we are (or, are not as of yet, perhaps).
Nonetheless, while this is solely theoretical (I don’t think Scripture can directly justify this) I can’t help but believe that Heaven will be peopled with beings other than, well, just people (this is depicted in Revelation). If our Lord is as powerful and creative as Scripture teaches then perhaps there are other people or other rational-relational creatures that will be in eternity as well. Some may be fallen and redeemed and others may never have fallen. A far-out idea maybe, but I just can’t help but wonder about the unexpected, untold mysteries of heaven.
* This idea is weaved throughout much of C. S. Lewis’ writings.
Yes, I’m one of those people. I loved Inception at first hello and after several meetings I still enjoy our predictable relationship. It’s a movie that’s sort of like a good friend; you both find the same subjects important and fascinating even if you don’t draw the same conclusions.
Like most movies Inception is a product of its time. Thus it feels at home in a Petri dish of Postmodernism.* It’s worldview forces the viewer to ask some hard questions about base-level assumptions, like, “How do I know this life is real?”
This video is for those who struggle with psycho-socio-bio-emotive interconnections. Or, put another way; for all those who may be dense about relationships (like myself) here’s a handy-dandy explanation of how it all goes down…supposedly.
I sat curled up in a cushy chair at Barnes and Noble watching a man and his grandson ride the elevator. While the grandfather was elsewhere in thought and gaze, his grandson tightly held his hand curiously examining the strange contraption they were ridding. He wore wonder with a pinch of fear on his face.
Here’s the thing: we become so bored and boring as we age. We look at the world with assumed presumption and loose our wonder and curiosity. Continue reading
There’s a strange tension in my life. Librarians make me nervous, but I love libraries. Rows and rows of paper and cloth-bound curiosities, each full of streams of words that flow over one page to the next. Weaving into sentence after sentence. Merging to form the headwaters of thoughts. Growing to transport ideas. And ideas bear weight and consequence. Ideas alter lives and shake worlds. You would think that a person who loves libraries would feel warm and at home with someone who works in such an enchanted kingdom. But I don’t; there’s something rather strange about librarians.
Ahem, I politely cleared my throat hoping to draw his attention away from the huge archaic box of a computer screen he was staring at. Click. Click. His index finger moved up and down. Click. Click. The overhead florescent light hummed. I felt awkward and shifted my weight. Click-ity-click-click. Click. His head cocked sideways and he looked up. “At last!” But he was looking straight past me like Auguste Rodin’s Thinker, save without the intelligence in his gaze. His rumpled eyebrows raised and his head jerked back to the screen. Click. Click. “He doesn’t even know I’m standing here! O, my word! This guy came over with that computer on Noah’s ark. He’s so old he’s deaf and blind!” Continue reading